


When Under Ether (she smiles so kind)

by hecateandhoney (LiveLoveLikeMe)



Category: The Worst Witch (TV 2017), The Worst Witch - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, F/F, Fluff, Hubble Sandwich, OT3, in which hecate has anxiety about going out but her family loves her, mild anxiety self loathing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-30
Updated: 2018-05-30
Packaged: 2019-05-15 22:05:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,384
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14798831
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiveLoveLikeMe/pseuds/hecateandhoney
Summary: Hecate doesn’t know when she started thinking of them as part of her alone time.  Doesn’t know how they became a comfort, a constant she never minds, a part of her routine.  But this little family has, and the thought fills her with a much nicer warmth than her earlier fears had.This is a P-HB-and-J Hubble sandwich fic.





	When Under Ether (she smiles so kind)

**Author's Note:**

> Oh look I'm back! I have several other things in progress in my documents, but my discord peeps deserve some long-awaited hubble sandwich fluff after all the glorious headcanoning, so I am here to hopefully deliver. This was also a bit of a present tense writing experiment, because I don't use it often enough.
> 
> WARNING: This deals with Hecate having a lot of anxiety over going out that is described (as it's from her POV) based on my own personal experience with anxiety in these situations. It involves some anxiety-related self loathing. 
> 
> The title comes from PJ Harvey's Under the Ether
> 
> Without further ado, here's some P-HB-and-J softness.

Hecate closes her eyes and tries her best to just _breathe_ , but it does little good.  She can’t quell the rapidly building pulse or the churning of her stomach, can’t force her legs to stop shaking each time she tries to stand and head for the bedroom door.  She’s supposed to be getting dressed for a date night out to an art gala opening, but her head spins with the thought of all the lights, the loud sounds.  What if someone tries speaking with her?  She’ll surely collapse on the spot and ruin the evening for everyone. 

She’s never been to this gallery before—has no idea how hot it will be, if there’s a restroom she can escape to, how many doors lead outside, how long they’ll have to stay, how many people might try to make niceties, how many others will visibly judge her relationship.  It’s a long stream of unknowns that just keep building in her head, making tears prickle threateningly at her eyes. 

It’s too much, and she hates that it’s too much, but Hecate thinks she might be moments away from curling up and hiding like a child if she doesn’t pull herself together.

The sensible Hecate of the past would have cancelled without a second thought.  Any situation making her that uncomfortable clearly wasn’t worth subjecting herself to.  She’d have hidden herself away in her chambers at Cackle’s with a familiar essay on the uses of lobelia in weather spells and not given the missed evening a second thought.

Hecate wistfully thinks of that freedom, that ability to merely cancel on herself and be done with it, but she has others to think of now.  Pippa and Julie have been chattering animatedly about this evening for weeks, so excited for a night of mingling and wine, she can’t fathom doing anything to ruin that.

So she sits, trembling and biting back tears, trying to convince herself the evening will be over before she knows it.  Telling herself she can transfer back at any point if she feels she needs to, or ask Pippa to send her back if she can’t manage.  There are a million escapes available, but even that does little to soothe, because escaping means disappointing her loves. 

She’s trapped between two carnivorous plants, both competing to devour her the fastest, and all she can do is sit and wish for a third way out that will never come.

A small knock sounds on the door, causing Hecate to jump.  “Enter,” she calls, hoping the tears building in her eyes aren’t as visible as they feel.  She steels herself, straightening her spine, and turns to find Mildred cautiously slipping in and shutting the door behind her.

“Mum and Pippa are getting worried that you’ll be late.”  Mildred pauses a few feet away, scrunching her face thoughtfully.  “You’re really pale, HB.  Are you sick?”

Hecate recognizes the potential in the excuse and clings to it, thinks for a moment she might use it and just agree, but she’ll only make them all worry, still ruin their evening, so she forces her quivering legs to lock and stands sharply.

“I am fine, just trying to pick a dress,” Hecate lies.  She’s already dressed, planning on wearing one of her usual safe black ensembles, but Mildred has moved to the closet and is already shuffling through.  “Nothing pink,” she snips, noting Mildred’s hands lingering near Pippa’s section of the magically extended closet.  With a dramatic sigh that she definitely did not learn from Hecate, Mildred shifts over to Hecate’s darker area and plucks out a looser black dress that falls to her knees—a gift from Pippa that she never wears. 

She holds it out with that smile that Hecate’s become far too accustomed to giving in to, and reluctantly she waves her hand and changes herself into it.  Stepping shakily in front of the full length mirror, she sees that she looks much better than expected.  It fits her in all the ways she usually shies away from, yet still looks conservative to a degree, and it somehow complements her figure.

“You look brilliant!” Mildred exclaims, giggle full of her youthful innocence.

She’s right, Hecate does look great.  But she doesn’t look like herself, and while maybe she admits that it would be fun to branch out and try at some point, it does nothing to help her current situation.  Her dress had been the final safety net, and now gone, she’s stuck heading into a new place, with new people, in a totally unfamiliar disguise. 

She watches Mildred’s smile crumple in confusion, then catches a glimpse of herself in the mirror and burns with embarrassment.  She’s crying.

Just _wonderful._  

And once she’s started, on those rare occasions she can’t smother it, she never can stop.  Hecate makes it to the open window, clutching almost painfully to the wooden sill, gasping in the cool night air as sobs rip through her.  It’s all too much.  It shouldn’t be; it’s not for Julie or Pippa, but it feels hot and stifling, like she needs to claw her way out of it all and just be.

Faintly in the background, Hecate hears Mildred’s clumsy steps rushing to the door, her frantic voice yelling for Pippa and Julie.  She doesn’t want them to see her this way, but there’s little hope avoiding it now.  Yet another evening, spoiled by her inability to just enjoy things.

“Hecate?” she hears.  It’s Pippa, flanking her left side and placing a warm hand on her shoulder.

“What’s wrong, love?”  Julie’s taken up the other side.

Hecate sighs wearily and shakes her head.  “Nothing.  You should go to the gallery without me.”

Julie’s hand rubs soothing circles on her back whilst Pippa works at loosening her nearly painful grip on the window.  She finds that the actions, which may have once overwhelmed her further, come as a comfort now.

She lets them lead her over to the bed when she stops gasping like the air can’t fill her lungs fast enough, lets them sit her down and take her hands.  Pippa crouches on the floor in front of her, Julie sitting by her side and continuing to rub her back, both looking at her with so much love that she doesn’t _deserve._ Not on nights where she can’t even handle a date out with them.  Not when she’s making them late and ruining their happy moods.

“It’s nothing.” She sniffs.

“It doesn’t sound like nothing,” Pippa says, squeezing her hand.  Her tenderness only cuts harder at Hecate’s heart.

“Please go,” she whispers, closing her eyes to stop the tears from starting once more.  She hates this.  “Enjoy the opening.”

“I think we’d much rather be here with you, love.  You forget, I’ve been a mum long enough to know when it’s not nothing at all.  Now come on, out with it,” Julie presses. 

Hecate sighs, realizing they’ll never leave her side and enjoy themselves if she keeps denying it.   She’s still working on trust—it hasn’t come easily to her, but they deserve it.  “It’s just too much,” she finally pushes out through gritted teeth.  “The place, the people, the dress.  I can’t…”

Pippa’s hand strokes her thumb softly as she looks up tentatively to see her eyes.  Hecate almost jumps, surprised to find so much understanding gazing back at her.  “Where shall we order in from?” Pippa asks, looking over to Julie.  “That place last week was so delicious, but we could do Uncle Chen’s again if you’d rather?”

“Anything’s good with me.  Millie liked that new place, too.”

Hecate blinks, looking back and forth between them slowly.  “Pardon?”  She can’t wrap her mind around the lack of questions, the lack of anyone trying to change her mind, telling her she’s being ridiculous and should simply force herself harder.  They haven’t been living together like this very long, only a few months.  Everything’s still so new, so different, but surely they still want to go to the opening they’ve been on about for weeks.

“Sorry Miss I’m-So-Refined, did you have a different place in mind?”

Hecate furrows her brow and continues looking between them.  “The gallery opening,” she says, like it should be obvious.

“You don’t want to go,” Pippa points out, shifting to stand like that’s the end of it.

“But that should hardly stop you two from having fun.”  Hecate sighs.  This is exactly what she was afraid would happen.

“Who said it will?  You think we need a stuffy old art gallery to have fun?” Julie asks with a chuckle, joining Pippa in standing and wrapping a loving arm around her waist. 

“You’ve both been excited for weeks.”

They exchange a knowing look that Hecate can’t quite follow and smile down at her, each reaching down a hand for one of Hecate’s to pull her up.  She lets them.

“Darling, we’ve been excited to spend time together.  We’ve all been so busy with work lately.  The location was hardly important.  I’m just as happy to stay in, eat far too much greasy takeout, and let Julie force us to watch another of her musicals.”

“Oi!  Those are classics!”

“Whatever you say, dear,” Pippa quips, earning a lighthearted smack with Julie’s free hand. 

Hecate, for her part, can only stare quietly between them, trying to process their words. 

“You aren’t upset?”

“Love, if we really wanted to go, we would.  Tonight we’d rather be here with you, where you’re comfortable, and that’s just all there is to it,” Julie adds with a huff.  “And you best start believing that, because it won’t change.  We know you get anxious sometimes and could never love you any less for it.”

“And I happen to know Mildred will be thrilled she doesn’t have to go stay with Mrs. Kravits tonight,” Pippa adds lightly, helping to cushion the way Hecate’s heart starts swelling.

Hecate can’t fight the smirk at that, recalling with amusement how the girl had ranted about her smelly cabbage stew for hours on end after the last time. 

She nods, finally accepting their words, and leans in to give them each a soft kiss before returning to her usual stiff posture.  “Very well then, if you insist.” 

Hecate looks between them once more, checks for any sign of hostility or disappointment, but finds nothing but open love pouring back at her.  Maybe she doesn’t deserve them, but they’ll never let her feel that they want her any other way, and that means something far greater to Hecate. 

She takes a deep breath and, settled on her decision that she can breathe again in the safety of familiarity, says, “Thank you.  I think it is for the best that I not be around people tonight.”

“Oh,” Pippa says, face falling and Julie’s not far behind.  They nod, as though they understand, but Hecate truly does not. 

“Sorry, Hecate, we’ll clear out to the living room, give you some space,” Julie adds, smiling softly and smoothing a strand of hair back behind Hecate’s ear.

“Whatever for?”

“So you can be alone, darling.  It’s all right.”

“We are alone,” Hecate says, frowning.

“We?”  Both women pause, looking at her oddly, and it dawns on Hecate what she’s so casually implied.

Hecate doesn’t know when she started thinking of them as part of her alone time.  Doesn’t know how they became a comfort, a constant she never minds, a part of her routine.  But this little family has, and the thought fills her with a much nicer warmth than her earlier fears had.

“When I said that, I meant in general.  I suppose I don’t consider you just… you’re different to me now.  The three of you are… like an exception clause.”  She can’t really find the right words, but they’re looking at her with big wet eyes, and she thinks she’s made her point clear enough.  She can be alone with them, and it’s much nicer than being lonely felt before.

“Three?” Mildred asks, poking her head in around the door from where she’s apparently listened to the entire conversation.  Julie shoots her a look, Pippa rolls her eyes, but for once Hecate can only smile. 

“Three,” she confirms with a slight nod in Mildred’s direction.   The girl beams.

Because it’s the truth.  Much as she’s fallen in love with Julie and Pippa, Mildred is just as much part of their little family as any of them, and she can’t imagine the hole she’d feel if that went away.

Mildred waltzes in, smile stretched wide, and yanks her three witches into a somewhat smashed hug.  “Thank you _so_ much for sparing me the cabbage soup.  Yuck!” Mildred exclaims, muffled into Pippa’s side as her grip on them all begins to loosen.  “I did like that place last week,” she adds, like an afterthought, though Hecate suspects it was her primary motivation for interrupting in the first place.

“What do you think, Millie?  Should we show them a real Hubble pajama night?” Julie asks conspiratorially, clasping her hands together amidst a chorus of Mildred’s _whoop_ ing.

She’s not entirely sure what that means, and Pippa looks equally puzzled, but it sounds like a new thing that might not be quite so overwhelming.

And so Hecate finds herself soon thereafter in a pair of her favorite purple silk pajamas, sandwiched between her loves on the couch, Mildred sprawled in her awkward gangly teenage way across Julie with her head comfortably snuggled onto Hecate’s lap while Pippa braids her hair.  Something called Mary Poppins plays on in the background—which Hecate suspects is somehow a quip against witches she just can’t place her finger on.  There are empty food and ice cream containers all around and constant chatter blocking out the sounds of the movie, mostly from the others but occasionally Hecate finds herself joining in as well.

It’s messy, hot, loud, she’s trapped between bodies, and people keep talking to her, yet Hecate is somehow perfectly comfortable amidst the chaos.  It’s her chaos, and it’s becoming familiar, like a second skin she can sink right into.  An easy disguise.

_Sometimes_ , she thinks, watching Pippa launch in on Mildred with another tickle attack, _love creates really beautiful exceptions._

_Sometimes, it’s okay to admit you want to spend the evening alone._

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Let me know what you thought. Is there any interest in more of my little OT3 here?


End file.
